


traced with stardust

by All_Your_Cats_Are_Belong_To_Us (Phoenix_of_Athena), Phoenix_of_Athena



Series: soft omens snuggle house GTA ficlets [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Drinking & Talking, Ficlet, Footnotes, Gen, Gift Giving, Guess The Author, Holding Hands, M/M, One Year Later, Other, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_of_Athena/pseuds/All_Your_Cats_Are_Belong_To_Us, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_of_Athena/pseuds/Phoenix_of_Athena
Summary: It's been a year since the Apocalypse-that-wasn't. Aziraphale has been keeping track. Crowley hasn't.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: soft omens snuggle house GTA ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820752
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #04 "A Gift"





	traced with stardust

**Author's Note:**

> For the Soft Omens Snuggle House discord's Guess the Author event. The prompt was "a gift."

“So,” Aziraphale said slowly, “it’s been a year, already.”

Crowley paused the swirling of his wine glass and looked up at Aziraphale through his sunglasses.

“What?”

“Since the apocalypse—or the _almost-_ apocalypse, anyway. Either way, it’s been a year.”

Crowley took on the look of someone doing a rapid mental tally. Then he made a quiet sound of surprise.

“So it has,” he said. “Cheers, angel?” He held out his glass, and Aziraphale clinked it delicately with his own. 

“Cheers,” Aziraphale answered around a smile. “You really didn’t realize?”

Crowley shrugged somewhat sheepishly. 

“Nope. Didn’t really see the point in counting the days anymore, not when they’re not numbered. But _you’ve_ been keeping track.”

Aziraphale took a slow sip of his wine, savoring the flavor on his tongue. Crowley had brought over a fruity red this evening.

“Well, yes,” Aziraphale said. “It’s an _occasion._ Something to look forward to. To celebrate. At least I thought so.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, and Aziraphale cleared his throat nervously. He continued:

“I was just thinking, since it’s the anniversary, that I, well…. Well, here.” Aziraphale placed his glass down on the table and stood, before stooping to pull open a cupboard. He retrieved something from inside and held it out towards Crowley.

“Happy… Er. Happy _One-Year-After-We-Survived_ , I suppose?”

Crowley blinked down at the small potted plant in Aziraphale’s hands. Its leaves were a deep green with veins that looked traced with stardust **[1]**. He took it carefully. The plant, seeming to sense that it had moved from a place of safety to a more precarious position, gave a shudder.

“It’s…nice,” Crowley said. “Thanks. Er. _Thank you,_ Aziraphale. You didn’t have to—”

“Oh. Oh, I know,” Aziraphale said, busying himself with brushing imaginary dirt from his fingers. “But I thought—well—I know you keep plants, and I hope it wasn’t _presumptuous_ of me—but I thought that it was lovely, and I do hope you like it, Crowley.”

“Of _course_ I do!” Crowley exclaimed, the words practically falling over each other in their rush to come out of his mouth. “Of course I do, angel. Er.” He cleared his throat. “I… don’t have anything for _you._ I wish I did, but I didn’t think—you know I would have—!”

“I know, dear,” Aziraphale said, reaching out to pat the back of Crowley’s hand. “But I don’t need anything. I just saw it and thought of you. And the occasion was right around the corner, and well…” he smiled bashfully. “Having you with me is a gift in and of itself. To still be together, a year after the world should’ve ended…I couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

The angel’s cheeks had flushed slightly as he spoke, and when he glanced at his companion, he saw that so had Crowley’s.

“I hope I’m not being too…too _forward,”_ said Aziraphale.

“Not at all,” Crowley whispered. He turned his hand over beneath the angel’s, and gently laced their fingers together. “Not at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1The plant, for those interested, was a Jewel Orchid, and a rather lucky one at that, to be in the hands of an angel who was so well-meaning. Well-meaning was about all that Aziraphale had going for him, after all, in terms of plant care; for instance, most plants cannot survive on water only once a month; neither do they tend to do well when hidden from a frequent visitor’s sight by being permanently kept inside of a dark cabinet. Yes, the orchid was about to have a whole new life experience very shortly, going from subsisting on sheer angelic belief, to receiving proper, if terrifying, care. Although unlike most of Crowley’s plants, it should be known that the orchid would receive some leeway, if only by dint of being a gift from the only being who Crowley considered a friend.[return to text]  
> 


End file.
